Puppy
by Ashley A
Summary: Set during The Wish, BTVS season 3. Angel's POV. A Series.
1. Default Chapter

Author's note:  I wanted to write something a little darker than normal.  So this is set in the "Wish-verse," an a/u that takes place during BTVS's season three story The Wish.  Go with the basic idea.  Angel's POV.

Part one of a series.

Disclaimer:  I am not Joss Whedon, nor do I have the kind of money he does.

Feedback does a body good.

Enjoy!  Will be updating shortly.

     The world is dark and different.  I know that nothing is technically wrong, but it just feels fundamentally wrong, like a new coat of paint on a torn up house.

     I was supposed to be here.  Supposed to meet someone.  To help her.  But she never came.  And here I am in this cage, a lapdog to the Master and his lackeys.

     They call me puppy.

     What the hell happened?

     And the more time I have to myself, the more I think on it.  And the more I realize something's skewed just slightly.

     I heard them talking earlier about a new kill they had made.  Specifically for the Master.  Apparently someone Xander used to know.  She had been taken by the "white hats" as they refer to some of the human resistance.  The girl had been mentioning something the others were very upset to hear.  So they had broken into the library, locked up the watcher, and killed the girl right in front of him.

     She had talked about getting the slayer.  Buffy Summers.

     The one I was supposed to be here to help.

     Why isn't she here?  Why did I come here anyway?

     The burns on my chest are still crusty and painful.  I hide in the corner of the cage, hoping against hope that Willow will forget that I'm here for a while.  She can tear me up and destroy my body, but my mind is still my own.  Or is it?  What's with the images of a Sunnydale that isn't, a world where the vampires aren't in charge and the humans can still walk around their town without fear?

     I hear keys rattle lightly, and try to tuck myself even more tightly into the corner of the cage.  Then a whistling penetrates my ears.

     "Puppy?  You need to go for a walk?  Puppy, come to Willow!"

     She saunters around the corner, and stops dead at the sight of me huddled in the bend of the old brick walls.  "Puppy, what's the deal?  Are you afraid of little old Willow?  She loves you, baby.  Now come here like a good puppy and beg for mama."

     She unlocks the cage, and walks purposefully over to me, a link chain in her hand, her favorite zippo lighter tucked in the bodice of her shirt.

     Maybe if I behave this time she'll go easy.

     She usually gets bored with me after a few hours.  Luckily this time, we were interrupted by Xander and the Master, who wanted to talk over plans for the factory.  

     She was stupid this time, and left me out in the room.  Guess she thought I was too beat up to move.  

     Which is kind of true, but I don't have many opportunities like this one.

     I stagger to my feet, blood pooling on the floor from the wounds in my legs and torso.  One good thing about being a vampire, you heal fast.  And blood loss isn't such an issue.

     No guards around for once, and it's too early for the Bronze to be full of demons playing.  I sneak quietly through the empty room, and tentatively open the front door a crack.

     Dusk.  Safe enough.  

Just as I am about to slip through, a voice calls out, "Now where do you think you're going, bad boy?"

     Damn.  

     I groggily start awake in what seems like a few hours later.  The stone floor is colder than normal, and I try to sit up, but find my neck and arms are lashed to the wall by thick iron links.  I also discover that she was a lot smarter this time, and took my clothes as well, so it would be much harder for me to try and leave.

     The floor is slick with drying, sticky pools of crimson.

     Footsteps sound on the floor, and I quickly close my eyes, feigning sleep.

     "What's this you're telling me?  The Slayer is here?  The stupid humans called on her anyway, even after what you did to the dark haired girl?"  Incredulatly echoes in his voice, and Xander answers with some trepidation.

     "Master, she has been seen with the Watcher.  At least we have the element of surprise.  We can take her.  Let Willow and I…"

     The sound of a hard slap reaches me.  "No, you idiot.  Let her bide her time, thinking she has the upper hand.  We will take care of her in our own way.  Nothing can mar the factory grand opening.  Nothing!  Now post an extra guard at the high school and try to follow her."  Out of my slitted eyes I see him turn on his bootheels and leave.  Xander rubs his cheek, glaring after the Master.  He wisely follows shortly afterward.

     I close my eyes again this time, as dizzyness attacks me.  I have that feeling again, a lot stronger this time.  Something is just not right.  When they mentioned the Slayer, I felt it too.  

     There has got to be a way for me to get out of here.  I need to see the watcher.  I can help him find a way to set things right.

     And maybe do what I came here to do, help that Slayer.

     Buffy is a funny name for such an important person.


	2. Part two

Okay, go with the A/U – ness of this story.  Part two of "Puppy".  All lines from BTVS episodes belong to their various writers.  

And away we go…

          Dusk creeps over the city, and I can feel it.  I can feel the others waiting for the moment they can go outside and feed.  Play.  Turn the town into their own personal blood bank.  

          The scary thing is, I still have that bloodlust in me.  I still want to go out with them, revel in the power that the darkness provides.  But my cursed soul stops me.

          That and the chains around my neck.

          Silence penetrates the building.  Thankfully I have been thrown some pants and a shirt to wear, and I work at the collar around my neck with my fingernails.  I have got to get out of here.  They've taken the other children that work with the Watcher.  He's alone now, and the other vampires are planning to take advantage of his solitude tonight.

          Wait…I hear footsteps.  And a heartbeat.

          I cringe against the back wall of the cage, and watch warily as she walks into the small room.  Long blond hair in a braid swishes against her back as she regards me silently.  

          She gives me a look of what seems like pity, then turns to go.

          Is this her?  The slayer I've been waiting for?  My gut tells me it is.

          "Buffy Summers?"  I call after her.

          She stops, her back still turned.  "How did you know me?  Who are you?"

          "I…don't know.  I came here to meet you.  And you never....  I was supposed to help you…"

          A bark of a laugh escapes her lips.  "You?  Help me how?  By being bait?  And I never what?  Who are you really?"

          I stand shakily, and she approaches the cage, hands resting on the crossbow held lightly in her hands.

          "I'm- a friend."

          "Maybe I don't want any friends," she tells me.

          "Didn't say I was yours," I retort, and that makes a small smile cross her scarred lips.  She's been through a lot.  I can feel the distrust and anger coming off her in waves.

          "So where's this Master?" she asks.  How does she know?  Oh yeah, that whole Slayer thing.

          "They're at the factory.  The harvest begins tonight.  We have to stop it."

          She cocks an eyebrow at me.  "The harvest, huhn?  And what do you mean we?  You look like you couldn't go ten rounds with a mosquito, much less take on a cadre of vamps."

          I press my body against the bars.  "Please, just get me out of here.  We need to find the Watcher.  He needs help."

          Her whole face droops at this.  "We can't help him where he is now."

          Oh God.  Too late.

          She suddenly lashes out with her foot, cracking the cage door back against the wall.  She stands close to me, hands reaching out to rip the collar from my throat.  A blinding silvery light flashes in my eyes, and I spin away from her, and the very large cross that's now hanging out of her shirt.

          "Oh, give me a break," she says, and levels the crossbow at me.  

          "Wait!  I can help you.  I'm different than the rest."

          "Oh, yeah?" she snaps, and I stand up straight, letting the light from the ceiling hit me fully. I break the buttons off my shirt, and let it hang open so she can see my chest.

          "If you don't believe I'm different, at least believe I want them dead."

          She has the grace to look shocked at my wounds, then quickly crosses the distance between us, grips the collar at my neck, and snaps it in two.

          As she turns to lead the way out of the cage, her hand grazes my arm accidentally.

          Images assault me, images of a Sunnydale bright with promise; laughing children and parents happily shopping; the high school at night, the stadium full of cheering fans; the Watcher and the youths I've seen him with before, only this time _she's _with them as well; the Bronze packed with teens dancing and drinking coffee.

          She's in the crowd at the Bronze, dancing too.  Except she's different.  Not so angry, hair shorter, no scars on her face.

          My view switches suddenly, and I'm now looking at her as if I'm the one dancing with her.  Her hand comes up to touch my face, and _I feel it._  

          Overwhelming waves of desire and a crushing sense of love pour through me as she touches me.  Our heads lean toward one another, and as our lips meet, the image irises out, and I'm left panting, standing barefoot in a cage, staring at the _wrong _version of the girl I'm in love with.

          Whoa, wait.  Love?

          "What. The. Hell. Was. That."  She's trembling too, I notice, and leaning up against the cage bars as if she can't support her own weight.

          "I don't know," I tell her, voice slightly cracking, "but do you believe in me now?"

          Her eyes meet mine, and for the first time I notice they are the one part of her that doesn't look downtrodden and tired.  They are quite beautiful, in fact.

          "Let's go." 

          So we do.

          We sneakily make our way into the courtyard of the apartment where the Watcher, Giles, lives.  Or lived, anyway.

          "There's gotta be something here that'll tell us what we're up against," Buffy tells me as she breaks the lock on the door.

          I am further saddened by the fact I can enter the dwelling with no invitation.  Damn damn.

          "What exactly are we looking for?" I ask her as we attack the stacks of books on the table, having explained to her on our walk over what I knew of the Harvest, and what the factory was all about.

          "When I got here, I had a chance to talk to Giles briefly about the sitch here in Sunnydale.  Sounds pretty dire.  He was convinced something was wrong.  More than just the whole Harvest thing.  He kept talking about someone named Cordelia, and some whole 'wish' thing gone wrong," she says as she's digging in the pile of dusty tomes.  My head snaps up at her innocent mention of Cordelia.

          "Did he say what he thought was happening?"

          "Not really.  He just kept talking about things being skewed, not right.  I didn't really pay attention, I was really just interested in info about the Master.  And how to take him down.  I'm the Slayer.  Killing vampires is my job, not figuring out what's 'skewed' about a town I've never even been to before," she answers, staring at me again, as if daring me to contradict her.

          "The thing is," I start slowly, "I've been having the same feelings for some time now.  And why would I be drawn here, pulled to a place I had never even heard of before last year?  I was supposed to help someone.  I was supposed to wait for her here.  And she never showed.  And the more I think on it, the more it seems wrong.  That flash earlier, I've been having visual memories like that now for two days straight.  I was heading to talk to Giles, actually, when they caught me.  And I haven't been able to contact anyone or speak to anybody about this.  Damn it!  I knew I was right," I finish, and slam my hand on the desk.  

          She jumps at the noise, then turns to me.

          "Look, I don't know what to tell you.  All I care about is catching this Master and stopping the Harvest.  And I can't do that if you don't stop distracting me…" 

          I close the distance between us, and before she can react, I press my lips to hers.

          Flash.

          I see her in front of me again, this time with wet hair and running makeup.  She looks as though she's been crying, and I reach out to soothe her.  I lean my forehead against hers, and she sobs once before kissing me.

          _Ohgodohgodohgodohgod can't we just have this one night?  God I love her…_

I hear myself say to the crying girl in my arms, "_Buffy, maybe we shouldn't…"_

          And she grabs my face, shushing me.  "_Don't.  Just kiss me_."

          The vision slowly fades.  We're wrapped in each others arms, laying on the couch in the dead Watcher's living room.  Kissing desperately, as if it's our last night together.

          I open my eyes, and gradually pull away, touching her face lightly with my hand.  Her green eyes open now, and she's weeping.  For a moment, the younger, less harsh version of the girl in my arms is there.  Then the mask crashes down over her, and she disengages herself from my arms.

          We stare at each other in silence, as thunder begins to boom outside.

"Who are you?" she says in a small voice.

I hesitate, then answer her.

"Angel."

TBC.


	3. Part three

Puppy part 3.

Same Disclaimer as on part one.

            The thunder and lightning continue to crash outside as we stare at one another.  She finally breaks the silence.

            "Angel, huh?  Funny name for a vampire."

            I smile slightly without meaning to.  "There's a lot about me you don't know."  She stands, returning to the pile of books we had only recently abandoned.

            "So tell me," she replies so softly at first I thought I was hearing things.

            "I don't think so," I say, and she looks back at me, as I try to hide the expression on my face.  That closed look I'm so good at.

            "Then why bring it up?"  she shuts the book she had just picked up, and turns to face me.

            I'm honestly not sure.  With all the weirdness in my life lately, I haven't felt able to trust anyone.  Not like a lot of people are predisposed to trusting vampires, anyway.

            I stand as well.  "Why don't we keep trying to find out about the Master.  There's not much time left."

            "Well, I wasn't the one who was all with the distracting," she retorts, an angry blush creeping up her neck.  "Fine.  Let's just get to it."

            Sneaking into the back of the Factory, we hesitate behind the large entry doors, and stare in abject horror at the sight of a small human girl being probed by machinery, tubes funneling her blood out into a glass held by one of the Master's minions.

            "To a new age!"  the Master booms out, and drains the cup dry as the other vamps echo his statement.  

            Buffy chooses this moment as her time to move.  Handing me a stake, she whispers, "try not to fall on this," and starts attacking the vampires closest to us.

            "Wait!" I answer but it's too late, and now I have no option but to help.  I step swiftly over to the cage where the humans are being held, and break the lock on the door.  With a "hurry, hurry," I urge them out.  They need no convincing, and dash for the door.  Two of them stay behind to fight, and I recognize them as the other "white hats" that had been working with the Watcher.

            I wade in with them, and stake quite a few vampires myself before hearing the voice I did not want to hear behind me.

            "Uh oh, Puppy got out."

            I whirl to face her, and she's got her game face on, so I oblige and put mine on as well.  As we rush each other, something heavy slams into me, and I hit the floor hard.  Xander stands over me, and tells Willow, "No time for this now, love, get the slayer!" 

            Willow throws me a kiss through her fangs, promising, "later, bad boy."

            As they both head for her, Oz and Larry, the two kids that had stayed, surprise Willow by waving a cross in her face, and as she growls at them, drag her back toward the now vacated cage.  Intent upon his prey, Xander dogs the Slayer and doesn't see as his mate is resolutely slammed into a large broken beam and quickly dusted.

            I see, though, and offer her a toothy smile as her last words float away with her body.

            "Oh, Fu….."

            Something in the back of my mind urges me to _turn around, now! _and I do so.   Buffy is locked deep in hand to hand combat with the Master, as Xander approaches her from behind.  She doesn't notice him, or the wicked looking knife he wields.

            "Buffy!  Behind you!" I yell, and she whirls, kicking out incredibly fast with her legs, and knocks Xander back into my waiting arms, and he too is quickly dispatched to join Willow, my sharpened stake plunging through his back with a violent thrust that reaches his dead heart.

            Shaking the dust off, I run to help the Slayer.

            The Master has her in a headlock, and she is flailing about, gouging and puching anything she can reach.  She has been disarmed, and as I can do nothing but gape, the Master begins to twist his hands, determined to break her fragile neck.

            Buffy and I lock eyes.  Her hands reach out, and without any conscious thought I flip the stake toward her.  She plucks it from the air as if it were a frisbee, and with one massive thrust impales it through the ribcage of the Master.

            His hands stop turning, and he staggers away from her in shock.

            We watch as his features begin to crumble, and as his knees hit the floor, the rest of him follows suit.  A few seconds later, the only thing left is a pile of dust.

            The few remaining vampires hightail it out of there before Buffy can realize there are any left, and kill them as well.

            I hear nothing, and I notice a ringing in my ears.  A wooshing sound fills the small room, and Buffy and I collapse to the floor, clapping hands to our heads, trying to protect them from the noise.  As blood begins to trickle out of my ears, all light in the room coalesces into one single figure.

            The figure of a young woman, whose face holds a very displeased expression.

TBC.


	4. Part four

Puppy pt. 4.

Same disclaimer as before.

            The sound suddenly stops, and we risk a glance at the young woman glaring down at us.

            "Do you have any idea what you've done?"  she hisses through clenched teeth.

            Buffy gets to her feet, brushing vampire dust off her knees.  "Uh, dusted a bunch of vamps and destroyed their operation?"

            "No, you idiot!  You've completely screwed up one of the best vengeance scenarios I had going!  What's wrong with you people?  Can't you just do what you're foretold?"

            I stand as well, and regard the woman with a cocked eyebrow.  

            A gleam of light hits the woman's chest, and the large blue bauble she wears there blinds my eyes with glare.

 Realization suddenly hits me, and I sway under a brutal assault of images not my own.

            More Sunnydale, more Watcher with his gaggle of children, more sunlight, another image of a graveyard, this time complete with picture of Buffy and me hunting something together, holding hands as we stalk it through the night.

            Someone's shaking my shoulder, hard.  A smack hits my left cheek, and I jerk my eyes open, her green ones gazing intently into mine.  "Angel, what the hell- are you all right?"

            I draw in a breath to speak, and notice it's shaky.  "More of those visual memories I told you about."

            The other woman stalks in between us, and hits me as well.

            "Ow!  What was that for?"  my hand goes to my stinging face.

            Scowling, she tells me, "for ruining my job.  You've completely screwed it up.  And how the hell are you having visions- are you special or something?  What's your deal, mister?"  she gets right in my face, and as she leans in, I take the opportunity to yank the blue stone from around her neck.

            "Hey! Give that back!  That's my…"

            "Power center," finishes Buffy, and I look at her in shock.             

            "How did you know?"  She turns toward me.

            "I was actually reading the books Giles had, you know.  Not spending **all** the time being distracted by you, all though I'm not sure why I cared to."

            She moves closer, as if to touch me, or something else.

            The demon woman is suddenly right there, and I jerk my hand away as she grapples for the necklace.

            "Look now, mister, that's mine.  I need it, okay?  My boss is gonna be pissed as hell anyway, and if I show up without this…well, lets just say there'll be a certain vampire that's gonna have a whole new bag of problems when I get back," she tells me, trying to puff up and seem scary.

            I'm a vampire.  I know from scary.  This is not it.

            "Lady, buzz off.  This bauble is ours now, and we don't need you around to help.  Well, maybe we do," Buffy says, and in a blur of speed hooks the woman around the throat, and the demon chokes, thrashing desperately against a very strong and ticked off Slayer.

            I tilt my head toward the exit, and Buffy leads the way, dragging the demon woman with her.  

            I follow, dangling the strange gem between my fingers, still feeling extremely wary around it.

            After extracting the tiny bit of information that the demon's name is Anyanka, we truss her up carefully in the corner of the dead Watcher's apartment.

            Buffy paces nervously as I read through the section she has found on Anyanka and her powers in the books on the table.

            I stop reading, and regard her.  

            "Hey…you okay?"  I ask, expecting her to jump down my throat or ignore me completely.  I'm surprised when she sits stiffly on the couch, and a few tears squeeze out of her eyes.  I put the book down, and tentatively sit next to her.

            "What's up, Buffy?"  I say gently, not wanting to raise her ire.

            She shakes her head slowly.  "I don't know.  I know what I'm supposed to feel, and I know my duty.  But from the moment I met you, things have changed.  They've skewed, as you said earlier.  And that's not right.  Not for me.  I'm the Slayer.  I don't have time for feelings, or friends, or anything but the kill.  And now I find myself suddenly interested in helping some strange man, a vampire at that, that I've known only for a few hours.  I'm invested in figuring out what's wrong with the world, because according to him and some dead Watcher, this isn't the way it's supposed to be.  Why the hell would I believe any of this?  All that matters is the job.  The mission.  And you're screwing up my view of what's important.  And damn it, I don't like it!"

            This last bit is choked out harshly, and she puts her face in her hands, and sobs.  I'm not sure what to say.  I only know what I feel as well, and I know we have a connection.  And obviously this world is wrong, otherwise we wouldn't have a mad as a hatter vengeance demon tied up in the corner cursing us.

            "What are you afraid of?  That the world will change?  Or that it won't?"

            She looks up at that.

            "I honestly don't know which would be worse," she whispers, and I take her hand timidly, hoping that one of those crazy visions doesn't hit me this time.  

            It does.

            _I know this is hard…_

_            What do you know about it?  You're never gonna die._

_            Look…this can't…_

_            I know.  Ever be anything.  For one thing, you're like two hundred and twenty four years older than I am._

_            I just gotta…I gotta walk away from this._

_            You play me like a fool.  Come into my home.  And then you attack my family…_

_            Why not?  I killed mine._

_            I killed their friends, and their friends children.  For a hundred years I offered an ugly death to everyone I met.  And I did it with a song in my heart…._

That story I recognize.  And I'm back in the present, gripping her hand, and she's staring at me, the tears still leaking slowly down her cheeks.  One of them splashes on our joined hands, and I jump.

            "I…uh…oh."  She sways slightly, and I put my arm around her shoulders, to steady her.  She leans into me, and we comfort each other, the knowledge of what we should do now sure in our minds, but not in our hearts.

            We have to destroy the power center.  

            I know, and she knows, that the only way to give the future any kind of chance is to do this.  But what if…

            What if it isn't any better?

            What if in the other world, the Master is still there?  What if night still rules?

            And what if I'm still the puppy?

            I finish reading the passage on Anyanka, and what it means to destroy her power center.  She is flailing and screaming now, knowing what we are about to do.  She can't do anything but flail and scream, due to the fact that her power is literally in my hands.

            Buffy and I clear the Watcher's kitchen table, and set the necklace in the middle of it, and I locate a hardy rock outside the front door.

            There's nothing left now but to do it.

            My hands heft the rock, and I hold it over the gem.

            I can't seem to move.

            Buffy puts her hand on my arm suddenly, and I turn to her, the stone in my hand as heavy as lead, as dense as the dark world we're about to destroy.

            "Angel, I…" she starts, and then smiles wryly.  

            "I don't have the strength right now to say what needs to be said," she tells me, then resolutely straightens her back.  She stands next to me, and meets my gaze.

            "Just finish it."

            I smile at her as well, and in that moment, a thousand possibilities open before us.  A thousand Angel's, and a thousand Buffy's wait silently to have their chance.  To follow their own lines of fate. 

            And I'll be damned if I'm gonna keep it from them.

            I lean over her quickly and press my lips to hers.  A momentary dizzyness, then I pull back.  

            "Thanks for opening the door," I tell her, and she gives me a quizzical look.  

            "What door?" she says.

            "All of them," I tell her, and as Anyanka screams out for pity one last time, I smash the rock in my hands onto the blue gem on the little table in front of us, squeezing my eyes shut as I do so.

            The light!  So bright… Is it the sun again at last?

            In one of many possible timelines, Buffy sits with her friends outside at school, absentmindedly fingering the silver cross she wears on a chain around her neck.

            A thought of Angel fills her mind unbidden, and she shivers slightly at the memory.  

            In a cavernous mansion on Crawford street a few miles away, a dark haired vampire stirs in his sleep, the vision of a blonde warrior woman haunting his dreams.  He sighs, and rolls over, pulling the covers over his head, blocking out the few stray filtered rays of sun that his eyes can barely discern in the gloom.

            A silver rings glints on the table beside him.

            And in the courtyard of a small apartment complex, now empty of it's working inhabitants, a former demon woman stands in the gloom, unable to move or to think at all, except for two words.

            _Damn them._

Finis.


End file.
